


on top of the world from here

by strangeunusual



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Begging, Body Worship, Boot Worship, Clothed Sex, Crossfaction, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Shoe Kink, Stepping, Trans Male Character, it's not a boot but i'm sure i'll be forgiven, the transness is not a key element of the porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeunusual/pseuds/strangeunusual
Summary: What's a little footwear appreciation among boyfriends in a tiny van?
Relationships: Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	on top of the world from here

**Author's Note:**

> step aside geeks, this is how you have a _real_ shoe fetish. i'm honestly shocked this hasn't been done here before!
> 
> this is also a present for a dear friend of mine -w- happy holidays king

  
  


"Can we do somethin’ tonight, love?" Sniper asks him one night, posture stiff in the walkway of the van and several steps from where Spy’s smoking, in the little booth across from the kitchenette. 

"That depends,” Spy replies offhandedly. “What kind of something?”

Sniper swallows carefully, silently, hands tense and clenching at his sides, and Spy doesn't miss the quick way Sniper's eyes keep darting between his face... and his shoes. 

The gesture is an easy one to misinterpret, and Spy can't help finding it endearing, but he knows much better than to attribute the tic to simple anxiety by now. As Sniper works up the courage to say something with his opening and closing mouth, whole face slowly turning redder, Spy pretends he isn't watching Sniper's lips so closely and takes a calm drag on his newly lit cigarette. 

Rather, outwardly calm. He's barely holding himself back internally, because he already knows what the question is about. He could tell from the first word Sniper said.

"Like... bedroom-wise."

"If only we had one of those," Spy can't resist snarking, even when he's the one who keeps coming back here and letting things happen in this cramped and comparatively insecure van. 

It always feels that much more intimate, indulging themselves in a place Sniper calls his home and making little games out of the spatial restrictions, lacking though it is to Spy's usual tastes. He's happy to sacrifice a bit of maneuverability for the things he can get Sniper to do, for what he gets to do in turn.

Sniper huffs, and looks away from Spy altogether. Clearly even the visual image of Spy, expectant and reclining, is too much for him to say what he wants. He’s avoidant like that, and it’s still very cute. 

"... I-I wanna... y-yer shoes."

Spy raises a brow, only out of gentle surprise, and his lips curl into a smirk even as his eyes remain soft and curious. He both knows exactly what Sniper means, and can't wait to have it detailed to him, if he’s lucky.

"_Oui _? Italian leather, the one thing I couldn't stay loyal to France for. The quality and texture is unmatched," he comments, casual except for his smirk remaining on his face. Perfectly normal conversation-making, if he weren't someone who knew all too well what he’s doing and what Sniper’s getting at, as if Sniper doesn’t already know very well. "Worth a fortune on their own, and I waste them by running around in the dust all day." 

Sniper looks a little hot in the face, and Spy turns up the act, blinking faux-innocently. "What about them, _ mon grand _?"

It's hard for him to suppress a laugh as Sniper curls inward just a bit, and he licks his lips in that way Spy just adores before he manages to speak, all breathy and distracted with a rough gravelly touch. If their positions were reversed it would be hot in Spy’s ear and making him shudder, much closer and with more wonderful pressure on his body, but it's no less delicious to hear like this. 

"I want-- c-can... can I... I wanna k-kiss 'em, f-for ya."

Spy's smirk widens by an inch, and he inhales a drag as if he's considering the sweet proposal, even though he's long since made up his mind. When he exhales, he uncrosses his legs and stretches them as far as he comfortably can in the booth, the smoke accentuating his movement and making Sniper’s breath hitch. Spy can see it from over in his seat, his own chest swelling as he waits a beat to let the energy settle into something more intimate for them both, something heady enough to forget the rest of the world outside. 

He knows when by the little twitch in Sniper's shoulders, can feel his love pleading for the word. He taps off his cigarette ash.

"On your knees then, bushman."

Sniper all but collapses in his haste to comply, or rather to do exactly what he's been aching to do since Spy walked in here and sat himself down like he lives in and owns the place, like he's always belonged in Sniper's old clunky van and wouldn't rather be anywhere else. And, by the borderline euphoric look on Sniper's face, he wouldn't rather be anywhere else either.

He's slow to crawl towards Spy's feet, not much distance between them in the first place, but there's a single-minded reverence to it, obvious in the way Sniper's staring at the shoes, the way he's biting his lip and, yes, the way he's very definitely aroused. Eyes lidded and cock starting to strain in his pants, still so terribly red in the face… it only makes Spy that much more into it himself, even if part of it is that he likes playing the narcissist. 

The warm coil in his stomach tightens further when Sniper's fingers cup under his left shoe's sole and around the side, touch hesitant only as an extension of his devotion. He shifts his leg slightly to ease the ache in his knees, and smiles wider when Sniper adapts to it immediately, still just as cautious of any discomfort or undue roughness. 

_ You’re not going to damage them any more than they already have been, _ Spy would say if he weren’t enjoying that hesitancy, if he didn’t completely love the way Sniper holds his shoe like it’s going to break under the slightest pressure if he puts his fingers in the wrong place. 

And in fairness, Sniper could probably snap Spy’s foot like a twig if he were trying, but he would never dream of it, of hurting or disrespecting Spy in these moments, and Spy would never dream of doing something like that to him in turn. In another life they wouldn’t have to fight each other at all, wouldn’t need to reserve their affections for hidden meetings, even if they find ways to be sweet and satisfying on the battlefield too.

Spy sighs happily at the first brush of Sniper’s lips on the toe of his shoe, a slow and utterly devoted thing all soft and open-mouthed, and Sniper doesn’t even look up to catch the bliss in Spy’s gaze, only moves his hand along the heel to grasp Spy’s delicate ankle with that same tenderness and dedication. His other hand replaces the first one’s spot under Spy’s sole, cradling the shoe so he can comfortably lavish Spy with attention. 

Each kiss is just as sweet and drawn out as the last, starting from the tip and staying there long enough and comfortably enough for Spy to know that’s probably Sniper’s favorite spot, but eventually moving up to trail the vamp. He lingers at the deep crease from all the times Spy’s leaned against a wall too long, ran too hard as he escaped notice, and Sniper’s tongue darts out to lick along its length slowly, then ends with another open kiss at its edge. 

Spy can’t feel it particularly well through the leather, though he hums low in his throat all the same. 

An upward twitch of his foot against Sniper’s chin gets Sniper to look away from his work and up at Spy’s hotly appraising stare. Spy’s smile only widens further at the pure adoration in Sniper’s gaze, adoration all for him. He feels his own twinge of arousal in his crotch when Sniper continues holding that stare and mouths at the beginning of his laces, licking all the way up in one slow strip. It still gives him a pleasant shiver when Sniper does it again a second time, and then he goes down a third time to kiss at each individual row of lace, but Spy catches him before he can even consider a fourth with a gentle tap with his toe at Sniper’s adam’s apple.

Sniper seems to like that, groaning softly as Spy tilts his face up properly with a raising of his shoe’s angle. Spy even makes a little show of coaxing Sniper’s head to the side, making his lips catch the light and shine from the wetness, from Sniper working so hard to please. 

Spy feels another hot spark at that on its own merits, and he only tilts Sniper around a bit longer for the spectacle and for what it’s obviously giving Sniper to be delicately handled and watched like this. His breath is quick and warm so close to Spy’s sock, his teeth bite into his lip just so, Spy can even see his legs shifting to press closer together, trying to put some pressure on his sizable erection. His efforts to hide his desperate squirms are the most delightful part of all.

Spy thinks it’s lovely. Sniper gives him a soft grunt, which means the magic is being a bit lost on him after a whole minute of working to stay still. Spy accepts that it couldn’t be enjoyable forever, and relaxes his foot.

Sniper exhales gratefully, only hesitating a moment to remember where he’d been interrupted before he’s back to kissing up the sides of Spy’s shoe and pointedly avoiding the laces. He’s always been so good at learning Spy’s cues, both spotting and remembering them, and that’s just another thing that makes Spy’s heart swell. Either it’s his contemplating, or that Sniper’s hand is sliding up from the back of his shoe and past his ankle to curl over his sock garter, lifting his pant cuff up in the process. Spy suppresses a shiver at the tender hold and the rough texture of Sniper’s callouses, a detail he’s always appreciated.

Sniper seemingly has no interest in dampening the sock, pressing comparatively chaste kisses to the fabric after his obscene treatment of Spy’s leather, but it’s still just as wonderful when he can feel Sniper’s lips this time. The gentle drag of him on Spy’s leg has Spy biting the inside of his cheek and watching Sniper with more hunger than before, something about it just that much closer, having that soft touch on his skin and not just his clothes. Sniper thumbs at his sock garter’s elastic, and Spy’s insides clench wonderfully.

He just barely manages to wait until Sniper’s made it to the top of his sock, his trail of slow devoted kisses lingering near its edge, before Spy clears his throat. Gentle, but with the authority he knows Sniper likes.

“You might make my garter slip, you know,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Pull it up.”

Sniper’s hot breath picks up against Spy’s leg and his lips quirk up into something like a smile, a significantly aroused smile, but he hesitates, and Spy’s eyebrows jump up as his own smirk returns. He’d almost forgotten how much fun he was having in the midst of Sniper’s affections.

“Not with your fingers, bushman.”

If they weren’t both hard and horny out of their minds he’d be internally contemplating how ridiculous that is, but then Sniper’s teeth hook under the elastic and tug carefully, slowly, and he stares up at Spy just so… and Spy can’t regret it whatsoever. It’s not efficient or very effective, the garter uneven despite Sniper trying his hardest to tug it into place higher up on Spy’s leg, but he’s drooling against Spy’s skin and obviously enjoying the opportunity to try, to please. 

Spy couldn’t ask for anyone better.

“_Très bien,_” he praises softly when Sniper’s gotten it as high as it’ll go, and Sniper expresses his own gratitude in kind as he continues his mission to kiss everything Spy will let him. 

Sniper has to start lifting Spy’s pant cuff once he’s up to the knee, and he lingers at Spy’s shin with those open-mouthed adoring kisses he’d been treating Spy’s shoe with, only pausing them to trail his tongue around Spy’s kneecap. His rough lovely hands settle with one in the underside of his knee and the other working his cuff up higher, revealing more of Spy with every inch and reveling in the process of it. Once Sniper has a new expanse to appreciate, he continues onward only to linger again.

Spy’s not one to find his leg particularly attractive, especially not with his pants still on, but just having Sniper there, kissing and sucking at as much of Spy’s skin as he can, it might as well be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Sniper’s eyes are so soft, all lidded and appraising, and he latches onto Spy’s inner thigh like he might die if they never touched each other again, like there’s nothing else for him to be doing.

Nothing but be on his knees for Spy, and Spy alone. 

Spy appreciates every second of that long moment in this string of long wonderful moments, really truly easing into the worship finally as Sniper sucks and kisses his way across Spy’s bared skin, but he frowns and gently swats at the top of Sniper’s head when he realizes where Sniper’s trying to go with all this.

“_Non. _ Not tonight, _ mon beau._”

“Aw, y’gotta be achin’ in there after all this,” Sniper says hoarsely, licks his lips to try and stave off any chapping. 

It’s true he is, his cock’s been throbbing since they started and he could be begging for something inside him if that were the mood he was in tonight. Hell, years ago something like this would have him soaking through his slacks, but he doesn’t get wet the same now, and he’d rather leave it be.

“Y’sure love?” he asks.

“I am sure, considerate though you are,_ chéri._”

Sniper grins, obviously taking it as a compliment rather than focus on being turned down. Spy appreciates it, and sees the confidence for what it is. He does so love when Sniper gets cocky, and the part he loves the most is that he’s found Sniper likes to earn his ego hits.

It’s something that Spy’s always been happy to oblige. His comfortable smirk returns at the way Sniper’s triumphant glow is interrupted with a little bit of shock.

He’s just as gentle with where he places his foot and how, careful to keep in mind where the dig of his heel might be too unwelcome, but he’s insistent as he pushes back on Sniper’s abdominal muscles until Sniper reluctantly gives in to the push. He can’t really fall back sprawled out on the floor how Spy would like, the space is much too limited for the treatment he could be giving his sweet Sniper, standing over him sprawled out on a carpet and teasing him with pokes and grinds and toeing and stepping everywhere he knows is sensitive enough… he could make Sniper quite comfortable indeed if simply given the opportunity. 

He does his best to store that thought for another night.

Limited domestic space that they have, Spy does manage to coax Sniper into leaning back as much as is possible, a slouching scrunched up posture with Sniper’s shoulders up against the kitchen cabinets, but it’s enough. It’s just enough for Spy to shift himself forward and apply some real pressure on Sniper’s sternum, smiling all the while as Sniper’s head tries to fall back and bumps the metal. His gasping is exquisite, as is the breathy desperate look on his face, but some excess drool on the side of his lip really makes the picture in Spy’s humble opinion. 

“Oh, _ mon grand, _ if only you could see yourself,” Spy croons, dragging the tip of his thoroughly appreciated shoe down Sniper’s chest, catching it on the slight pudge to his stomach and hovering just on his navel. So close but so deliciously far from where Sniper clearly wants it by how he squirms and tries to buck his hips. “Surely you could survive a photo for me? For this?”

“Not bloody likely,” Sniper chuckles, cutting himself off with a huff when he bucks again a bit too sharply. He’s never liked the idea of Spy keeping pictures, and for understandable reasons. “You’re a fuckin’ tease.”

“_ Oui. _ I don’t think I’m the only one who loves it though.” 

Spy doesn’t need to see Sniper’s distracted grin to know he’s right.

He digs his toe in by less than an inch, only enough to make Sniper yelp high in his throat before Spy eases off completely, and he holds Sniper’s desperate gaze with a poised one of his own. He could leave Sniper teetering on the knife’s edge as long as he likes, and Sniper would certainly be very frustrated with him, but he knows every second is just another move in the game and that’s what they both love about it the most. They may know the obvious outcome, but getting there’s the real fun.

They stay staring into each other’s eyes as Spy slowly, achingly slowly moves his foot from hovering over Sniper’s stomach to just barely brush against the straining bulge in his pants. They’re still holding the same stare as the tip of Spy’s shoe nudges what should be the tip of Sniper’s cock, and it’s only when Spy makes it under his balls that Sniper finally makes the mistake of looking away, of trying to guess where Spy’s heading, that Spy applies the real pressure at Sniper’s perineum and rubs it in. Sniper’s air leaves his lungs all at once and he gets the message, heaving and moaning and keeping his eyes to either the ceiling or Spy’s face. 

“Fuck… _ please, _ I need it—”

Spy doesn’t wait, simply because he already knows, and he shifts from pressing on Sniper’s taint to stepping right on his cock. Sniper, to his credit, tries his best not to buck hard enough to dislocate Spy’s knee.

Sniper’s face is nothing short of _ rapturous _ after this much build-up and teasing, eyes rolling up and his teeth biting hard into his lower lip, hips canting and stuttering with impulsive grinding and attempts to squirm away from the unyielding pressure he’s being treated to. Spy doesn’t dig in or try to ease off, keeps it steady for a full thirty seconds that he forces himself to count as Sniper adjusts, and then when Sniper’s desperately begging him to press harder with whines and extra breathy little “please”s he finally shifts. 

“Higher or lower, _ mon beau _?”

“L-lower, lower, _ please, _ god…”

“If playing god meant I could do this every day, I might take up the offer,” Spy purrs as he indulges Sniper with a slight shift of his weight. He can feel the difference in give between Sniper’s erection and his sack underneath, and it takes significant effort to stay below what he knows as Sniper’s tolerance limit, but there’s something about walking the fine line that he also knows Sniper loves, and that he’s found he loves in turn. 

He’d still love Sniper just as much if they’d never discussed doing this, if their time together was strictly spent on the common recognizable ways of fucking, but to do this together… it’s quite the bonus to their relationship. 

Sniper moans as he finally finds a safe rhythm of grinding and pressing up and falling back down, and then he’s squeezing his eyes shut with a huff right as Spy ruins it for him, chases his attempt at a reprieve with a motion not unlike putting out a cigarette against his too-sensitive head. Something about that makes Sniper’s cock twitch under Spy’s heel, and Spy grins with pleasure. 

“Do you suppose I can get you to come like this? Would you like that?”

Sniper can barely look at Spy, too overwhelmed by the wonderful pressure right where he needs it, by taking everything Spy will give him and loving every second, by just barely remembering to breathe, but he manages a hasty nod. Spy, well known for being a tease that he is, takes that as his cue to pull his foot back completely.

The reproachful look Sniper shoots him almost immediately makes him wonder if he should be worried for the next time they fight.

“You bloody fuckin’ _ rat _\--”

“One more word and I will be stepping on that filthy mouth of yours rather than your lovely cock, bushman,” he warns, surprised but confidently smug. 

Of course, he wouldn’t be making gentle threats in the first place if he didn’t know Sniper would love that just as much, but the whole point is that it’s not Sniper’s call, after all. He can see the second where Sniper weighs the prolonged enjoyment of his face being pressed into the floor against the gratification of getting off. 

He can also see when Sniper makes up his mind, and the way he spreads his legs further to go with it. Spy holds that sweet pleading stare with a hungry one of his own and darts his tongue out to lick his lips.

“Beg me for it.”

Sniper’s face flushes a sweet red, such a nice contrast to his uniform, and his fingers tense and clench at nothing against the hard floor. 

“Please,” he whines, weakly. “I need it, I-I need you…”

Spy hovers his sole just inches above Sniper’s crotch, and Sniper bucks desperately. “More.”

“Oh god _ please, _ please step on me, love please, need it so bad, need _ you _,” he cries, much better this time, panting and twitching like he’s going to come on his own without Spy even touching him again, like just falling apart and pleading and having Spy deny him is enough. Certainly he’s enjoying himself enough for it.

Delicious as the thought is though, Spy’s not one to risk ruining the moment, and he relents. He lightly traces his shoe tip down the length of Sniper’s straining tent, relishes in the keening noises Sniper makes, and finally _ finally _ steps back down with that same slow yet inexorable pressure. Of course Sniper’s favorite part is the sensation itself, but the added gradualness drives him even more wild as he pants and groans and bucks under Spy’s foot. 

“_Magnifique,_” Spy breathes, biting his lip and clenching his inner thighs. 

Sniper flashes him a sweet grin between his eyes rolling back and his quick breathing, and Spy can’t resist pressing a little harder just to see it melt away again. 

When Spy decides to let up he starts delicately rocking his heel back and forth, alternating where his weight sits and pushing down against Sniper’s hips, and when Sniper’s muscles seem to tense too far Spy switches tactics, back to singular pressing and grinding. The longer he drags it out the more Sniper whines and groans and drools, desperate and chasing that high as best he can when Spy interrupts every rhythm he sets, just for Spy’s personal enjoyment. It’s as exhilarating to watch as it is clearly frustrating for Sniper. 

But, lucky for Spy, Sniper likes that.

“You know, you only cleaned one of my shoes,” Spy comments absently just as he pulls his heel away yet again, as if they’re merely doing casual business and Sniper isn’t shaking with the denial. 

“Oh fuckin’ god _ please-- _”

“I think it’s only fair,” he teases. Leaving his well-loved left shoe tantalizingly close to Sniper’s crotch, he lifts his right leg and points the tip of his shoe close to Sniper’s wet lips, just within reach if Sniper stretches. 

Sniper’s face is flushed, dusted red and sweating, his lips have tiny indents from where he’s been biting too hard, and his eyes have a hint of water in them, likely from grinding too hard. There’s a second long pause where Sniper just huffs and breathes and gulps down all that spit in his mouth.

And then Spy smiles so wide and appreciating when Sniper leans himself forward, licks his shoe from tip to the furthest point of the vamp he can reach, and then latches onto the leather like his life depends on it. He stares up at Spy with pleading eyes as he sucks and kisses Spy’s shoe, much sloppier than the affectionate treatment his left received, but that almost makes it better, the desperation to please in every move, the way Sniper's loving every minute of trying.

“That’s it…” Spy coos, rolling his ankle gently to coax Sniper to one side, and then the other. “_Très, très bien… _ so very good for me…” 

Sniper moans, vibrating the leather slightly, and he sucks a bit harder. Spy smirks, almost tender, and with care nudges his resting left shoe back near Sniper’s taint, gently pressing his toe into the slight dip just to catch Sniper’s begging little stare again. 

“I think the only thing I’ve seen you suck with this much enthusiasm is my cock,” Spy says, half to himself. Sniper’s eyes flutter shut, and he doesn’t even have the reservation to be bashful as he licks another stripe along the outsole. The leather shines from all the spit he’s leaving on it.

Spy nudges his left foot slightly higher, pressing up on Sniper’s balls again, and the move makes Sniper moan and gasp enough that he loses his place on Spy’s shoe. Spy doesn’t let him latch back on, shifting to catch Sniper’s chin with his toe instead and rubbing that slick drool back on his face. He’s such a sight, and Spy is the kind to heap praise of all kinds, but Sniper doesn’t like being reminded of his appearance so much. Instead, it gets to be in Spy’s private collection, the memory of his bushman’s face all soft and wet and stunning, fucked out without either of them even taking their clothes off. 

He evidently stares longer than is necessarily sexy, Sniper gives him a weak but knowing grin, and Spy of course has to wipe it off his face again by stepping back down on his aching erection. The surprised but undoubtedly thankful noise he makes has Spy’s own cock pulsing.

“Shall I finally let you come, _ mon amour _?”

“You’re s-such a bloody sadist,” Sniper manages to huff out, whining with the little increase in pressure Spy gives him for the comment. “_Yes, _ please please, ngh… I’ve been good, haven’t I? Please?”

“You _ have,_ haven’t you…” Spy trails off affectionately, pretending to think about it as he unsubtly moves his heel higher, trying to slide up Sniper’s hard length as gradually as he can. He can’t at all blame Sniper for being impatient, he’s about to start rubbing himself off if he doesn’t get on with it soon, nevermind how Sniper’s poor cock must feel. 

Sniper keens pleadingly, clearly trying to muster his best begging face with his brows all scrunched up and a sweet pout of his lip, and Spy sighs finally.

“Oh, now how could I refuse something like that?”

With no further warning, he steps as hard as he dares, not quick enough to truly hurt anything but enough to catch Sniper off guard, to pull a sharp grunt out of him before it melts into more groans and heavy panting. Spy eases off just as soon, a little pause for Sniper to appreciate the lingering sparks of pain and pleasure mixing together, and then he’s back to grinding his heel down, stamping out the last of Sniper’s reservations. 

“Fuuuuuuck, fuck fuck fuck _ fuck, _ please, please… oh god,” Sniper cries out in one long string, breathing heavily and biting into his own lip again as he still tries to grind into the pressure even though he knows it’s too much for him. “Up, _ up-- _ nnh!”

Spy moves as soon as Sniper says it, shifting to press with his toe instead of his heel and digging in with that too, and Sniper’s back arches in the limited space that it can, hits his head against the cabinets again. Spy counts the new little string of drool on the side of Sniper’s mouth as a success.

He keeps alternating his grinding, up with his tip and down with his heel until Sniper starts bucking too hard, and he finally shows Sniper some mercy. He rests his sole down flat against Sniper’s bulge, not too light but not pressing too hard either, and strokes up and down the fabric of Sniper’s pants with it, rubbing as much of the length as he easily can. 

Sniper shudders, eyes squeezing shut as his hips buck up again and he keens, the loudest he ever gets as his body winds tighter and tighter from the stimulation he’s been craving.

“Fuck I-I’m gonna-- I--”

“Come for me.”

With that permission he spills, whole body shuddering and tensing and pressing up, up into Spy continuing to stroke his cock through the long-awaited peak. He lets out one long sweet moan, and then as it tapers off he just huffs and pants, and finally slumps.

Once Sniper’s cock stops twitching and seems to flag, and Sniper’s just breathing exhaustedly, Spy gives a final little rub to Sniper’s head with his shoe tip to pull one last twitch out of him. He does love it when there’s visible stains, but if Sniper’s briefs are a bit too thick for anything to drip through he’ll survive, and Sniper will probably be much happier. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he wheezes with one last shudder, limp and boneless on the floor. 

His eyes take a moment to focus, and then he glances down at his own crotch, Spy’s foot not far from it. “... M’gonna have to change me bloody trousers.”

Spy bursts into snorts as Sniper struggles to stand, knees wobbling and nearly giving out, and Spy looks away despite how satisfying it is to see him so thoroughly debauched. He waits patiently for Sniper to clean up and put on less stained underpants before he slides backwards into the small booth to make room for them both, and Sniper takes the spot with ease, draping his long arms around Spy’s shoulders. Spy smiles gently with a kiss to Sniper’s sweaty temple.

“Good boy,” he murmurs into Sniper’s ear, only a hint of amusement. “You did so well…”

Sniper hums, still soft, but easily coming back down to normalcy. “Love ya…”

“_Je t’aime tellement, mon grand,_” Spy replies earnestly. “Now would it kill you to let me step on you in _ my _room next time? I promise I can make it much more enjoyable.”

Sniper just laughs, voice rough and raw, and leans his head into Spy’s neck as he catches his breath.

  
  
  



End file.
